WE GATHER TOGETHER by Edward L. Woodyard

We Gather Together Chapter Fifty-Two

Sam McCulloch saw on a shelf behind Helen Lundgren a framed picture of a young man standing proudly next to a classic metallic blue Corvette. Helen noticed Sam looking at the picture.

"Bob wants me to take it down," she said to Sam. "but I can't. I'm sure you understand."

Sam nodded. "Ben's got Scott's Corvette in the city of all places. Don't know what good it's doing him there, but when he was up last, he insisted on taking it back in. Hope nothing happens to it."

"When Scott got his Corvette, Doug had to get one too. Used his own money too."

"Same with Scott. They were like that together. They did a lot of the same thing."

"They weren't best friends for nothing."

"I think it was all those slapshots to the head in high school."

Sam and Helen smiled at Sam's comment. Helen showed Sam the picture of Doug by his Corvette in front of a house. "It doesn't seem that long ago that Scott and Doug were on the hockey team together. Along with Brian Gardner. It was the three of them. I still see Brian and his wife from time to time."

"That's when those guys had the whole world ahead of them," observed Sam. He stared at the picture again.

"I don't think Bob will ever get over it," Helen said.

Sam handed the picture back to Helen who returned it to its place on the shelf behind her. "I don't think any of us will, Helen. Especially Scott."

"You don't think that was why Scott. . ." Helen wondered, then caught herself before finishing her thought.

"It's harder when you're young," Sam said.

"Doug and Bob, well. . ." Helen said, letting her memories drift. She went on, "A lot of times we say things that we shouldn't." She looked at the picture again, "Doug was so proud of that car."

"I remember when he bought it. He worked all those jobs after school and during the summer. He and Scott together. They talked about those cars until they were going to make them happen."

"First place Doug drove it when he got it was to your house. Wouldn't even give his parents a ride. Had to show it first to Scott."

Sam could see Helen getting upset and pointed to a display of film boxes behind her.

"Helen, in case this new camera of mine doesn't work right, I may have to bring my old Nikon out of retirement. I better get some of that new-fashioned Ektachrome."

"It's nice that they reintroduced it," she said. "I have it in thirty-six exposures."

"Then that'll do it," Sam said, handing her a twenty-dollar bill. Helen saw Sam look again at the picture of Doug next to his Corvette.

"He didn't even have it two months," she said about the car. "I keep being reminded of it this time of year. He died in the hospital two days after Thanksgiving, you remember."

Sam nodded as Helen rang up the sale at the cash register. She continued, "You and Julia were so kind to us, Sam. The holidays put enough pressures on you without letting words come between you. Doug just stormed off. Took his anger at Bob out behind the wheel of that car."

Sam looked down the back hallway of the store as Helen put the film in a small paper bag.

"You never know," Helen said, handing Sam the bag, "when it'll be the last time. The last thing you should say to someone is I love you, not I hate you. Bob still feels remorse from time to time."

Both Sam and Helen knew that the same thing had happened between Scott and Sam. There had been an argument about Scott not wanting to wear a tie at the Thanksgiving table and it persisted for several days afterward. Julia said at the time that the argument was the excuse to set up the conditions for Scott having to leave and for Sam wanting Scott to leave.

Helen looked into the back hallway and saw the workroom door still closed. "Does Scott still like California?" she asked.

Sam answered her question as well as he could, "You'd have to ask Julia, Helen. I don't talk to him much."

Sam knew Helen hadn't wanted to make him uncomfortable with her question. She started down the back hallway, "Let me see how Bob's doing."

Sam stood at the counter, fiddling with the paper bag. He mumbled under his breath, hoping that Helen might hear him. "I know what Bob's feeling. I don't know if I'll ever get the chance either to. . ."

Helen had heard Sam, just as Bob opened the workroom door and started down the hallway. "After I plugged it into the analyzer, Sam," said Bob, "it was as simple as replacing a dead battery." Bob then handed the camera to Sam, "You're good to go."

"Should I test it?" Sam said, pointing the camera to the Lundgrens.

Bob turned to Helen and put his arm around her. Sam took their smiling picture and then examined it on the camera's computer screen. He smiled and showed them the image.

"I'd love a copy of that, Sam," said Helen.

Sam looked at the image on his cell phone and forwarded it to Bob's cell phone. Bob heard his cell phone ping and then shared the visual text with Helen. They smiled at Sam.

"You shouldn't have any problem now with the timer. I e-mailed you the instructions in case." Bob said. Sam saw the e-mail from Bob on his cell phone and put it in his pants pocket.

"Got it. Many thanks. What do I owe you?"

"A wonderful Thanksgiving," answered Bob, shaking Sam's hand.

Sam slid his camera into his front coat pocket and then took the small bag of film off the counter. "You too. Thank you," said Sam, moving toward the door.

Helen gave Sam a large smile. "Give our love to Julia," she said.

"I'll do that. And thanks again," Sam said, smiling as he opened the door and heard the shopkeeper's bell. As he passed by their store window, he waved to them from the sidewalk.

Sam thought how the Lundgrens typified what was best about life in a small town. When Doug died, Bob and Helen could have moved elsewhere, but instead they stayed, knowing that everyone in town knew what had happened. They didn't have to explain anything, only to relive the horror every time someone got curious about where they had lived before or perhaps googled their names, only to discover their personal tragedy. People in Castlebury just knew and they cared – without a word ever having to be spoken. Those who experienced heartbreak in a small town did not usually leave. Just walking down the street, they knew there was compassion and understanding in a warm smile, a firm handshake, a welcoming kiss or an affectionate hug from friends and neighbors. The conversations were all done with the eyes.

Sam checked the digital time on his phone. Needing to get home, he quickened his pace to cross the street to his car. Annie and Cara would be at the house soon with the grandchildren. He knew they had to pick up Jason and Courtney at school first so he had time to get there before they did.

Julia was right. Sam couldn't just go into town for a few minutes. It was almost always for a few hours.